


Anniversary

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Just Say Lass [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Modern Girl in Thedas, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Rylen POV, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 00:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13963512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: Rylen does his best to celebrate an Earth tradition with Abigail by planning a special evening for them.





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CloakingHawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakingHawk/gifts).



> From a prompt by [CloakingHawk](https://cloakinghawk.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr to have Rylen see Abigail in a pretty dress finally so that we can see his reaction. Thank you for the prompt! <3

He’d never heard of the concept, but Abigail was insistent that it’s important. It had taken them both some time to determine the date though - finally they’d agreed that that night after Haven was destroyed was the official start. The night he told her he loved her, the night he declared that she belonged with him - that was the real beginning of everything.

 

And at least it was an easy date to determine, considering everything going on with the Inquisition.

 

He wanders the merchants in the courtyard, thinking hard about what he could get for her, since Abby had told him a gift was traditional. When he had asked Evelyn, she’d teased him not to get her something Abigail needs, or not something that he would want as a gift. Nothing practical, she said. Give her something pretty, something that shows her you love her.

 

Thinking back over his childhood, he tries to recall what his sisters would have fawned over, what they would have pretended they wanted as a gift from a prince during their games. A small section of a trinket merchant’s wares catches his eye and he walks forward, looking the options over. With a smile he traces his finger over one, holding it up so he can look at it better.

 

Perfect.

 

After haggling with the merchant he rushes to the baths and carefully takes his time in his ablutions, shaving his face until it’s as smooth as a young lad’s. He knows how much she likes the tattoos on his chins, and he wants to feel her kiss and run her tongue over them like she’s wont to do. He spends extra time scrubbing with his soap, making certain he also cleans under his nails. From everything Abigail has said, this sounds like an incredibly important night - and the impression he’s gotten is that they’ll be spending hours in bed together.

 

With that thought racing eagerly through his mind he dresses himself in his wool shirt, leather breeches, and leather vest. He tugs at the bottom of the vest to straighten it, ensuring that his shirt is tucked in properly as well. Smirking at himself he runs his hand through his chestnut hair and then ties the small gift satchel to his belt.

 

When he walks across the courtyard, Barris and Bron laugh and call to him from where they’re sparring, but he simply waves a hand at them and chuckles to himself. They’re teasing - but if they knew what he was dressed up for, they’d find themselves more than a little jealous.

 

_Aye - one year with my lass. Time’s gone by quickly, but happily._

 

_Happier than it ever has before._

 

The smile on his face feels stuck there, his cheeks almost beginning to hurt - but he can’t stop. He runs by the tavern to grab the basket he packed earlier - wine, cheese, bread, some delicate fruits he managed to buy from a merchant, and a blanket. Whistling softly he makes his way to the gardens like they agreed, hoping maybe he can set up before she arrives.

 

“Oh my god - Ry, you - you set up a picnic?”

 

He looks up from where he was straightening the blanket, intending to tease her, but instead his jaw drops. He’s never seen her in a dress, and he’s rendered speechless - which is more than a little unusual for him.

 

She almost looks a little hesitant, her hands clasped in front of her as she looks at him. The dress is buttercup yellow silk, with a tight bodice and a layered, embroidered skirt. The grey roses on her shoulder are peeking out from the edge of the delicately fluttering sleeves, adding to the beauty with the gentle reminder of who she is under the dress. 

 

Her hair has gotten so much longer in the time she’s been in Thedas, and she has it gathered on one side with a low yellow ribbon, the dark strands standing out beautifully against the yellow of the dress. The creaminess of her skin reflects the light of Thedas’ moons, and the stars are twinkling back at him from her chocolate eyes.

 

“You haven’t said anything - is it awful?” she asks, and she runs her hands down the front part of the bodice. “I - I just thought -”

 

“Lass - I’m sorry, I’m just - for once you’ve rendered me speechless,” he murmurs, finally pushing himself to his feet. “Abigail you look - the only thing I’ve ever seen you wear besides black is one of my white shirts, I - I just -”

 

He simply stares for a moment, slack jawed and almost spluttering like a young lad courting for the first time. Mentally shaking himself he clears his throat and walks forward to pull her into his arms.

 

“Happy anniversary,” she breathes, staring up at him and smiling brightly. Her hands rest on his chest and for a moment they’re simply lost in one another’s gaze.

 

“Happy anniversary, lass,” he finally tells her. “I - I know you said gift giving was traditional, so I - I thought maybe I'd get you something."

 

"I said it was traditional, but you didn't have to, Ry," she tells him, but she bites her lip and looks excited despite her protests.

 

“Close your eyes,” he tells her, suddenly wanting to surprise her. She scrunches her nose at him in the adorable way she always does when he’s teasing her, and he chuckles. When she finally closes her eyes he removes her gift from the satchel and then quickly undoes it before he walks around behind her.

 

“What did you - oh!” she cuts off when the cold metal touches her collar bone, and he fastens the clasp before he trails his fingers over her almost bare shoulders.

 

“You can open your eyes now,” he tells her, and her head bows as she looks down to see the necklace he placed around her neck.The silverite reflects the moonlight, shining as he admires how it looks resting on her pale skin.

 

“Ry - it’s - oh my god, it’s beautiful,” she murmurs. “It looks Celtic, or like a love knot -”

 

“Celtic?” he asks, frowning.

 

“Oh, sorry - Earth thing, a - culture,” she explains. “But it’s perfect, it’s - it’s wonderful. Ry, this is - exactly something I would wear, I -”

 

She turns around to look at him and it’s her turn to be speechless as she peers up into his eyes.

 

“So I did all right then, lass?” he asks, feeling slightly apprehensive, unable to resist the urge to make certain he’s honoring her traditions correctly.

 

“Come here you crazy fool,” she mutters, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him down to crush her lips against his.

 

He wraps his arms around her, tightening his hold until her soft curves are pressing into his hard muscles. Their mouths twist, lips parting to let their tongues take up their familiar dance.

 

Over a year of kissing her, and he still can’t get enough.

 

They sway slightly and he gently guides her to the blanket, laying her back on it, careful to keep her beautiful dress off the ground. Continuing their slow, hungry kisses he slides his hands up her legs and the dress pools as he pushes it up around her hips.

 

Her fingers work eagerly at the laces of his breeches and he pulls down her smalls enough to expose her. Neither of them stops to think about where they are, all they know is that they need one another - just like always. Eagerly he tugs one shoulder of the dress off, dragging his mouth over the grey roses that decorate her skin. When he trails his mouth lower and flicks his tongue over the excited peak of her breast she lets out a soft cry, and the familiar noise excites him further.

 

Before her, there was never anyone for longer than a few nights, a few weeks - but one blissful year later and he’s still as eager as an untested lad about to take a lass for the first time.

 

He slides into her easily, coming to rest deep inside her, and he feels like he’s home. Her fingers are twisting in his hair, her eyes clenched shut as she gasps and moans in response to his movements. He takes her slowly, tenderly, rolling his hips and enjoying the noises she makes as he thrusts within her.

 

“Lass, you feel like heaven, like I died and returned to the Maker,” he pants in her ear, and she whimpers. He feels her tightening around him, her cries becoming more incoherent as he pushes her closer to the edge.

 

When she falls apart her back arches as she cries his name mingled with breathy curses. He follows a moment later as he captures the skin of her neck with his mouth, leaving a love bite he knows she’ll chide him for when she sees it.

 

They finally still, trying to regain their senses and catch their breaths, and after a few moments they both begin to laugh.

 

“Well - should we have our picnic date now?” Abigail giggles, and he props himself above her to peer down into her face. Her chocolate eyes are sparkling, holding his gaze with soft love evident in their depths.

 

“Aye, lass - I’ll need more sustenance before I take you again,” he teases her, and leans down to press a tender kiss to her lips.

 

Their first anniversary - the first he’s ever had - but it’s a tradition he’s willing to adapt, because all he wants is more of them with her.


End file.
